


Seven Minutes in the Void

by JuokasKurvas



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gambling, Language, M/M, Oral Sex, Revenge, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuokasKurvas/pseuds/JuokasKurvas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of Seven Minutes in Heaven is the stuff of nightmares for Anders and Fenris when they find out about the extra rules Isabela, Merrill and that traitorous Hawke added to the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Minutes in the Void

Fenris growled at Isabela, throwing down his hand and accusing her of cheating. There was no other explanation for why he would ever come in last in a game of Wicked Grace, no matter how bad the hand. Well, second to last, even Isabela was not an adept enough cheat to ever help the hopeless abomination.

“Sorry love, you know the rules, you have to prove to accuse.” The pirate smirked gathering up the playing cards and reaching toward the stack of notecards she’d brought along to this week’s game. Her “penalty deck” she had fondly called it, saying this week rather than playing for money they’d play for forfeits, it would be fun. At the time Fenris couldn’t have cared less, he had more than enough coin to keep his sword sharp, his armour pristine and his wine cellar fully stocked. He was also one of the best card players in their group, generally only losing to Varric and Isabela, and on the rare occasion to Hawke’s mabari. That damn dog was amazing at Diamond Back, but was currently passed out in the corner of Varric’s suite, having been deemed unsuitable for Isabela’s forfeit game, a game that only had consequences for the bottom three players, depending on what the card said. There had been one infuriating card that had required the entire group to trade articles of clothing. It’s why Fenris now sat feeling bare without his gauntlets, Isabela’s stupid bandana tied to his wrist. Of course nobody had been as angry as the mage when he realised he’d have to equip Sebastian’s “disturbing crotch belt,” as he’d put it. The memory almost distracted him from his current black mood.

Other than that one card, all the cards had offered up challenges to the bottom one, two or three players. Aveline had huffed but gone along good naturedly when she had to sing some bawdy bar tune that the group suspected Isabela had written herself for the occasion. The guard captain actually had a rather lovely voice. Sebastian had blushed furiously when he had to attempt a suggestive dance with the little witch, but he’d proved rather competent. Merrill proved that she had two left feet. Dog might not have been allowed to play but clearly he wasn’t excluded from the merriment as one challenge pitted him in a hilarious match of tug-o-war with Hawke, Anders and Merrill. The three mages were hopelessly outmatched in a battle of strength, despite the fact none of them were as soft or unfit as a magister. Dog was just that good. And Varric and Isabela had a delightful time drinking shots of a rather delicious smelling brandy that most certainly had not been procured in their current establishment. It was that round that convinced Fenris that Isabela knew the exact order of the forfeits in her deck – how else would the two best players happen to both lose the only match where the punishment seemed to be more of a reward?

It was for that reason that Fenris was extremely apprehensive to not only find himself in the bottom for the first time tonight, but to find that if the card penalised more than one person he would be attempting this challenge with the possessed mage, only one step above the blood mage – who had come in third to last and might also be part of this challenge. Fenris was hard-pressed to think of an activity that sounded less appealing.

“Isabela,” he growled again, both wanting to put this forfeit off forever and just finally get it over with.

“Relax broody, none of the challenges have been that bad.” Varric’s words would have been more assuring if he didn’t immediately explode into hysterics upon flipping the top penalty card. “Rivani no, you can’t, this…” Varric just handed the card to Isabela and placed his head against the table.

“What does it say?” Anders and Fenris asked in unison, although the mage’s tone was apprehensive where Fenris was simply furious.

“It says that if there is a mage in the bottom round they must use the other player as a blood sacrifice…” Isabela’s jest was cut off by Fenris leaping up, eyes flashing dangerously and fingers twitching, unsure whether he would go for the abomination’s heart or the pirate's. Anders just sat there shell-shocked.

“Oh relax do you think I would do that? No, the card just says that the bottom two players will need to play a game of Seven Minutes with the Maker.”

Isabela’s words did little to dispel Fenris’s anger or Ander’s horror, but it did cost the rest of the room to similarly explode into a fit of hysterics. Save for Sebastian, who was probably too busy being offended by the blasphemous game title.

“No” was all Fenris said before retaking his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He wouldn’t play, they couldn’t make him.

\- - -

Less than 5 minutes later Fenris found himself locked in a broom cupboard in the furthest corner of the Hanged Man, where no helpful patrons would be able to hear him curse and scream as he banged on the locked door. He snarled at Anders as he spun around, the mage hadn’t exactly walked in here under his own steam, but he hardly put up the fight he should have. It had only taken Merrill, Isabela and a somewhat similarly coerced Sebastian to get the mage in here. Fenris had been dragged biting and swearing by Varric, Garrett “I’m the world’s most muscled mage” Hawke, Aveline, Donnic, Carver and that blasted dog. Damn Dog, he probably would have gotten away if it wasn’t for him. Once they’d been locked inside either Hawke or Merrill must have cast something on the door, because there was no other explanation for why his sword just bounced off it after every furious swing.

“Do something,” he screamed at Anders, “it’s some kind of blasted magic, dispel it!”

Anders hesitated a moment, probably not wanting to come any closer to the raging elf – Fenris wouldn’t blame him for that – before moving to the door and attempting an analysis. After a few second he sighed, backing away from Fenris slightly before saying, “well this is Merrill’s work,” – Fenris snarled again, knowing exactly what that meant – “and there’s nothing I can do.”

“You can lock us in here but you can’t make us play this stupid game, let us out now and I might not kill you all.”

“Oh broody darling, you will play,” Isabela answered back sweetly, “because this barrier won’t dispel until you finish the game, down to every last rule.”

Fenris screamed and threw himself at the door again, knowing it was futile but unable to do anything else. “You bitch, you…”

“You’re not very nice Fen, neither you nor Sparklefingers, which is shame because Sparkles used to be such a delight. You both need to loosen up, and until the two of you do you aren’t getting out of there.”

Before Fenris could swear some more Anders butt in. “So what, we just have to make out and the barrier will drop?”

“Afraid not sweetie, the card is a bit more detailed than that. Hawke and I feel…”

“Hey leave me out of it!” Garrett interjected, though didn’t deny the accusation.

Fenris could almost hear Isabela roll her eyes through the door. “We feel that there is a lot of tension between the two of you, and if you resolved that tension perhaps the two of you might not be such colossal assholes. To that end, one of you will have to get the other off before this barrier drops. No hand jobs, no masturbation. You’ll at least need to come to an oral resolution before the barrier drops. Merrill has assured me the barrier will know the difference.”

“It’s not that barriers know things Izzy…”

“I think they get the point love.”

Fenris just gaped at the door, jaw hanging open and at a loss for words.

“You can’t do this,” Anders objected, but Isabela just laughed.

“I told both of you that Merrill is mine now, and I protect what is mine. I warned you countless times on Sundermount to at the very least keep your mouths shut. You didn’t, so consider this payback.”

“Aveline, Sebastian, how can you possibly condone this?” Fenris pleaded, hoping that the guard captain or chantry brother might be able to put an end to this madness.

“Just Merrill, Hawke and I here at the moment guys, everyone else went back to Varric’s room and they certainly won’t be able to hear you through the barrier at that distance. You’re stuck.”

“Hawke…” Fenris tried, although he was starting to lose hope.

“Sorry guys, I don’t know that I think this is a good idea, and I certainly don’t agree with Isabela that all conflicts are the result of sexual tension, but I’m not stepping in. You decided to piss off the ‘I’m so ballsy I’ll rob the fucking Quanari pirate’, you’ll have to accept the consequences. And when this is over with I understand you guys will be pissed, but no glowing, either of you. You both owe me better than that.” The sound of Hawke retreating could be heard even through the barrier, and now only Isabela and Merrill remained outside.

“Well, we will give you some privacy, good luck in there.” All the mirth was gone from Isabela’s voice and it was then that Fenris realised how royally they had screwed up during the fiasco with the Dalish clan and demon mirror. At the very least they would probably be left in here the whole night before Isabela would allow them to bail on this forfeit. Fenris glanced and Anders who was now sitting on the other side of the cupboard, awkwardly playing with a few of the tattered threads coming loose from that ratty feathered coat of his.

“What now?” he asked the mage, hoping that he had a solution that did not involve the two of them…doing what Isabela wanted them to do.

“They left water in here,” he answered, nodding at an earthen jug on a stool in the corner, “so guess it’ll be a few days before they have to come back for us.”

Of course it would be days, not overnight, days. He would be stuck in a closet with the infuriating mage for days before he’d get out of here. Although, pausing to think about it, Anders hadn’t been all that infuriating lately. No preaching about mage rights or evil Templars, not since the incident with that mage girl in the sewers. Fenris hadn’t been there, he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but Anders hadn’t been the same since.

“Can’t your demon do something?” Perhaps calling that thing in Anders a demon might wake it up so it could realise the injustice of this situation and get them out of here. Certainly it couldn’t find Isabela’s brand of retribution to be just.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no.”

“Would you like to elaborate mage?” his statement more of an order than a question by this point.

Anders sighed and sat there quietly for several minutes. Fenris had almost given up on receiving an answer when the blond man finally looked up and said, “Justice cannot take over anymore.”

“Are you no longer possessed?” Fenris was shocked, this was definitely the kind of news that he would have wanted to know.

“I am, but Justice is…dormant.”

“Am I going to have to keep pulling teeth all night to get a straight answer here?”

Anders glared, but finally managed to string together more than a handful of words in explanation. “I thought I knew what I was doing with Justice – who is a spirit and not a demon, and he was my friend. But, but I’m too angry and Justice doesn’t know how to properly adjust to human experiences, feelings, memories. He had a hard enough time inhabiting a corpse, where remnants of those things lingered. In me, he has become angry. Less Justice, more Vengeance. He’s no longer able to see things clearly, and after Ella…well I feared eventually I’d no longer see things clearly either. That I’d…we didn’t know how to separate. And I didn’t want to kill my friend. This is a temporary solution, until I can figure out how to set him free, or until I die. He’s in here, but he’s asleep, quiet. So no, he can’t break down any barriers for you.”

Fenris just stared at the other man, unsure what to say. This was probably the closest he was ever going to get to hearing the other man admit any sort of failing, that he was maybe wrong. He also felt calmer, knowing that he wasn’t going to find himself trapped in an enclosed space with a vengeful demon.

“I need to get out of here.” Anders didn’t say anything else, didn’t even look at Fenris when he said it.

“Well what do you suggest we do?”

Anders stood up and walked over to Fenris. “Let’s do Isabela’s forfeit.”

“No, I…I will not be coerced like that.”

“Okay let’s starve to death and die in a cupboard” Anders replied sarcastically.

Fenris growled and punched the door again. Anders sat back down and took out a deck of cards, shuffling them.

“Why do you have those?”

“Figured we’d be here awhile, we could play another forfeit.”

“Explain.”

“Isabela didn’t say we had to both get off, just that one of us had to get the other off. Loser services,” Anders suggested while trying to keep his expression neutral, although he was finding it difficult. Truth be told he was amused, and intrigued. Fenris was hardly bad looking, and 5 years with Justice had meant that the apostate was suffering his longest dry spell since he hit puberty.

“You are terrible at cards; you may as well just get down on your knees now”

Anders internally congratulated himself for not just embarrassing himself in his smalls then and there. That deep voice ordering him onto his knees, it did things. He was terrible at cards, but he didn’t think he’d mind losing as much as Fenris so what did that matter.

“Well, if you want to be sporting, we could play Bride of the Maker.”

“Unfamiliar, though I didn’t say I wanted a fair game.”

“It’s easy, and a bit more luck based.”

“Fine, teach me.”

\- - -

Fenris had been a quick study, and after he lost Anders wasn’t entirely sure the game was as luck based as he thought. “Guess that makes me the bride then,” he laughed, nervously.

“Guess that makes me the winner then, you still want to get out of here?” Fenris stood, leaning back against the wall and glancing down at Anders. The mage couldn’t help gawking at him, armour flattering his cut figure, form-fitting leggings leaving little to the imagination as they curved around his taunt ass and over a more than impressively sized bulge.

Anders nodded but didn’t move from his spot, unsure where to begin with a man who usually rewarded any sort of touching with threats of heart crushing.

“Then get over here and suck” Fenris commanded, unlacing his own breeches and pulling out his already semi-hard member, lightly stroking himself as he stared down at Anders heatedly.

The sight broke Anders out of his trance and he crawled on hands and knees over to the other man, resting his hands on lithe, muscular hips. His tongue darted out briefly, glancing up at Fenris to ensure that he was alright with this, before leaning forward and taking the tip of the elf’s cock between his lips.

Fenris groaned as the mage’s tongue swirled around the head of his penis, lapping up a small bead of precome, slowly working its way down his shaft, gliding smoothly over pulsating veins. The mage hollowed his cheeks and took more of him in, slowly, and Fenris was barely able to restrain himself from thrusting wildly down the mage’s throat. It had been a long time since anyone had serviced him this way, and no one else he’d ever been with was even half as skilled as the mage clearly was. His reputation clearly was not unfounded.

Anders relaxed his throat and swallowed Fenris whole, pleased with the elf’s girth, length, flavour, smell. Anders had a variety of talents and attributes that ensured his lovers always remembered him long after he’d forgotten their names. His tongue both long and wide, able to curl around while simultaneously working almost the full length of Fenris’s ample cock. His gag reflex was still non-existent, even after half a decade without practice. He deep-throated Fenris once more, squeezing his throat muscles around the elf’s prick while the man above him made obscene grunts, pants and even the occasional pitched squeal above him. After working his throat around Fenris for several minutes he swallowed thickly, clamping so tightly around the elf that he was certain the other man came very close to spilling himself in that moment.

Fenris gasped at every sensation - heat, tight throat, pleasant constrictions. For a forfeit that he had been so enraged about only an hour before he couldn’t imagine feeling any higher than he did in this moment. Never had another person ever made him feel this good, when Anders almost forced him to finish just from closing his throat around him Fenris almost cried. He was in no way ready for this to be over, and so, making use of years of training denying his own pleasure, he willed his body to not orgasm, with such force that he almost lost his arousal. Luckily he stayed hard so as not to alert Anders to what he was doing, but he was now nowhere near losing control, he had no intention of letting this end anytime soon.

Anders pulled back once he was certain Fenris wasn’t going to go over the edge, glad that the elf’s stamina seemed to match his own. He doubted he’d ever get the chance to do this again, no matter how much Fenris seemed to enjoy it, and he wanted to make it last as long as possible. He allowed Fenris to slide out of his mouth again before grabbing just the tip with his tongue, sucking gently on the head as he worked himself into the other man’s slit. Rewarded with a satisfied moan, Anders removed one hand from the elf’s hip and used it to gentle cradle his sack, gently fingering each ball before palming the whole package roughly. Anders slowly swallowed Fenris down once more, but this time when he reached the hilt he opened his jaw wider, sticking his tongue out so that he could pull the elf’s testicles into his mouth as well. He placed his free hand back on the other man’s hip as Fenris’s knees buckled.

He threw his head back against the wall, a cross between a growl and a sob fighting to break free. The apostate had the entirety of his package in his mouth, in his throat. Fenris wanted to hold out, he wanted this to last longer, but it was just too much. Control required thinking and his brain was now mush. He was entirely and viscerally focused solely on the pleasure being inflicted on him. Unable to even choke out a warning as his balls tightened, his hips bucked and his release spilled forward down a willing throat, across a pliant tongue, and onto warm and inviting lips.

Fenris may not have had time to warn him but Anders knew the signs, as Fenris began to spill Anders pulled back, not because he didn’t want to swallow, but because he wanted to taste him. The mage eagerly allowed the warm fluid to spill onto his tongue, salty, bitter, tangy and faintly flavoured like the lyrium etched into his flesh. Fenris pumped himself into the apostate’s mouth eagerly, a few final thrusts as he forced the last of his release down a willing throat. Anders swallowed every last drop eagerly, even licking up the last couple of pearly drips off the tip of Fenris’s cock as he slowly pulled back his hips.

Fenris could barely breathe, glancing down at Anders slicked lips, staring into honey coloured eyes with pupils blown wide. Perhaps Isabela and Varric had not gotten the best forfeit after all.

\- - -

Fenris and Anders entered Varric’s suite just as the others were gathering up the last of their coin – clearly they had ceased with the penalty game – and were getting ready to call it a night.

Isabela glanced up at them, her expression burning with both delight and curiosity. “Settle your differences then boys?”

“Took you awhile,” Aveline said before either of them could answer, “was kissing each other that awful?” Clearly only Isabela, Merrill, Hawke and likely Varric were in the know on the nature of the actual forfeit.

“I suppose it could have been worse,” Fenris answered, not elaborating further. Isabela squealed, as if up until that moment she had perhaps been uncertain if they’d found a way past the barrier without playing her game.

“I certainly won’t be playing this penalty game again” Anders offered, his face a mask of neutrality that contrasted heavily with the dark and wanton Fenris had been privy to just minutes prior.

“We only came back to say goodnight, and that Isabela, this isn’t over.” Fenris smiled as he threatened, and was pleased that the never serious sailor actually looked a bit nervous at the feral expression on the elf’s face.

“Do your worst,” she taunted, but Fenris didn’t reply, he just turned and left with Aveline, Donnic and Sebastian, heading back to Hightown. Anders tossed the brother his gaudy belt as they went past, deciding to join Hawke, Isabela, Merrill and Varric at the table as the other four seemed unlikely to leave anytime soon. Carver must have left earlier as there was no trace of the surly templar to be found.

“Details,” Isabela cried when it was just the five of them left in the room.

“I never kiss and tell” was all they got out of Anders, giving Isabela, Merrill and Hawke quick pecks on their checks before taking his own leave. He ignored the cries of tease as he left, heading for his clinic.

When he arrived he found Fenris waiting patiently on the doorstep. “Well?”

Anders grinned and gestured to a small piece of cloth in his hand. Unfolding the parcel he held it out toward the elf, “Hawke’s hair, Isabela’s hair and Merrill’s hair.”

“Will this work?”

“Wait and see my friend, wait and see.” Laughing the pair headed inside to work on their own swift retribution.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this last night, I wrote it up really quickly today. It was supposed to be about half this length and less plot filled (somehow some tangent bits got in there that seemed necessary to make things plausible, not sure how I feel about them but they are staying for now) and I have not proofread it at all. Not that that would matter as I'm terrible at proofreading things that I write. But hopefully it's not a complete mess and will proofread it at some point. Really just wanted to get it up as it's not a weird fetish story which is all I've posted thus far. Needed to do something else. And ignore my thesis, because I'm always ignoring that. For the most part is meant to follow game canon barring I made Justice go away b/c he ruined Anders (this is part of that tangent nonsense) so added slight AU tag. Still never sure about tags, I feel I should add more but I don't know what. Okay will stop rambling, hope this was at least somewhat enjoyable to somebody.
> 
> Also, Bride of the Maker (I've renamed too many games in this story) is probably supposed to be like Old Maid, which I think is pretty luck based especially with two people.
> 
> I've updated this to a non-con tag (originally up as dub-con) on the suggestion (well rude insults, but will pretend it was a suggestion) that this might be triggering. I do want to say that this is not how I intended the story to be read (e.g. characters felt forced and really thought they were going to die if they didn't go along with this) and will try to edit to not come across that way when I have time and am less upset about one of my first forays into fic writing (particularly pairing writing) resulting in insults thrown at both my "shitty" work and my character for trying to suggest that I of course always meant to imply such a reading and yet make light of it. Not that I don't personally enjoy non-con tag stories at times, but that wasn't what I was trying to do here. So I apologise if anyone has found this triggering pre-tag. Still working on tags and aware that my writing might not always line up with what is actually in my head about a situation/characters. Always appreciate constructive criticism though.


End file.
